


everything is blue

by ladiesforhades



Category: South Park
Genre: Camping, F/M, I have intent to finish this trust me, Its long, M/M, Multi, Nature, On Hiatus, Outdoor Sex, Revised fic, Supernatural Elements, heavily revised, hopefully my writing isn’t total booty now, if I contribute anything to this hell fandom this is it, isn’t obvious right away until Kenny’s chapters, it deserves justice, its time for this to be finished, sigh, the camping fic v2.0, this was my favorite fic I wrote
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 16,318
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24161194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladiesforhades/pseuds/ladiesforhades
Summary: they wanted to run away together. would whisper in the dark their deepest desires and secrets. They were good together, safe. And then one left and the other remained in those shadows. They created dim blue in the confines of their heart, core and souls.And everything is blue.But not forever.Because when the moon falls the sun rises.And so on, and so on.Hiatus for now
Relationships: Kenny McCormick/Craig Tucker
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this is on hiatus until I figure something out.

"Are you seriously packing that?" Craig Tucker grips onto the straps of his backpack. It's hot out, humid. His dark bangs cling to his wet forehead and it’s July in South Park, the only warm month. Hazel eyes watches condoms being shoved into the front pocket of his best friend's luggage.

"You never know, Craig. I might meet a hot chick and score." Clyde explains this so easily, as if it makes perfect sense. Like being in the woods with a bunch of people they’ve known since they were kids would shift the viewpoint they have of him. Maybe it could, but Craig doubts it’d be for the better. If the sweat stain already forming at Clyde’s pits is enough to signify how charming and attractive he’ll be on this trip. He finishes zipping it up, pushing his arms through the loops of his own bag. Craig rolls his eyes at his best friend. Right.

"You're a virgin. You wouldn't even know what to do, asshole." Craig mumbles in nasal. Eyes half lidded, a bored expression forever present on his face. His mouth presses back together, a thin line between two pairs of plush, pink flesh. Clyde's lightly tanned cheeks are noticeably redder, probably from the sweltering temperature and equally from the embarrassment of being called out, 

"Would so. I've watched enough porn. I got this." Clyde elaborates. Craig remains silent at that one. They're waiting on Clyde's porch for everyone else to show up. Stan's gang, a few of the girls and Token. Jimmy and Tweek bailed at the last minute. They're all supposed to go camping a few towns over. A bright idea formulated in a group chat.

It's a sunny day. Sparkling heat baking everything like it’s in the confines of an oven. It's golden. Trees and foliage are illuminated by the light. Painting everything to look a little softer in its wash. There is the sound of bird song, a chorus interrupting the gap of quiet. Chirping and loud.

Craig is looking down at his cellphone when he hears tires crushing gravel beneath its weight. Craig peers up and it's Kyle in his moms mini van. Stan sits next to him on the passenger side and is tampering with the radio, inky hair pulled back with a sweatband. Cartman is seated behind them with Red who looks annoyed, slumping into the chair and positioning her head against the window. Token and Wendy rest in the very back and are pressed close with their hands on top of each other. Their palms are squeezed together with fingers in between fingers. Wendy has a happy, radiant bliss as her lips move. Token's mouth is a softer upturn, patient and waiting for his opportunity to add into their conversation. Craig squints as the sunlight assaults his eyes. He cups his hands in front of him, continuing to half heartedly glance into the vehicle. He notices quickly that there is only one available space left.

There were two other people that were supposed to come. Kenny and Bebe. As he's about to question it Kenny's truck begins to make a sharp turn into Clyde's driveway. Craig steps backwards, noticing that Bebe is in the truck with him. Which really is unsurprising. 

The doors to the van open and Kyle hops out. Kenny turns his key in its ignition and the worn metal transports loud purring comes to a halt. Craig's stare falls on Kenny as he rests his head back, bares and displays his expanse of neck. He can see the splatter of freckles, more prominent after being cooked under the sun. It's as if they are an intricate piece of art. Dotted on carefully with a wet brush. 

"We have to go, like...now if we're going to sign in on time. Clyde, you can ride in the back with Token and Wendy. Fatass takes up two seats, unfortunately." And it's true, Cartman is still big. Thick arms, stomach, legs. He's leaning forward in the car to tamper with Kyle's radio, Stan and him fussing about. Stan is swatting at Cartman. A long list of insults most likely being thrown between the two of them. The peace of the vehicle looks like it’s being disrupted as this garners Wendy and Tokens attention. Red just buries her face in her hands, sinking a bit deeper into the seat.

Craig's eyes turn away from the sight that would be humorous if it didn’t involve Eric Cartman. He looks to Kenny and then onto Kyle, who is digging through his backpack.

"Where do I go?" Craig question. Maybe this is a way out. He didn't really want to go camping. It was the summer after their senior year and he wanted to just spend it in solitude. He has so many red racer reruns for the new live action series to get caught up on. Yet Kyle nods his head towards Kenny's truck. Craig finds his line of sight following where Kyle’s directing him.

"Go with Kenny and Bebe. We'll meet you guys at the campground."

Craig closes his eyes, a sigh falling from his core. The rays of light tickle his cheeks and nose. The breath he releases sounds long suffering. 

Those hazel orbs open and the world around him hasn't vanished. The pitch black was merely a shield for a few seconds. Craig's hands dig into the depths of his pockets and he sucks it up, making way to step towards Kenny's pickup. He stands in front of the passenger side door, reaching a hand out of the compartment of his pants to pull on the handle. It’s unsurprising to find it's locked. He feels stupid as Kenny looks over at him, passed Bebe to send a toothy smile in his direction.

Bebe reaches over and easily grants him entrance with a yank of the handle. Craig lifts himself up into the belly of the metal monster. Claiming his seat next to Bebe. She smells of some sweet, flowery perfume that lingers in the air. Masking the scent of smoke that follows Kenny like a cologne, 

"Craig Tucker." Kenny sing songs as he taps his finger against the steering wheel. He doesn’t look at Craig as he addresses him and Craig notices his eyes lazily trailing Kyle as he climbs into the drivers side of his moms mini van. Craig places his backpack in his lap, rests his elbows on the bag. He cups his chin with his palm, keeping his attention on Clyde's house. Trying to avoid engaging interaction.

"Kenny Mccormick." Craig replies. Bebe tampers with the radio, scrolling passed static and pop music. Kenny starts his truck up and begins to back out of the driveway after Kyle has pulled out. He lets out a low whistle as Bebe settles on some punk rock station.

"Good choice, B." Kenny praises as the sound of The Descendants vibrates throughout the pit of space. It’s loud and booming and as much as Craig digs punk, he feels himself shaking a bit at the volume. Bebe beams at him, feigning friendliness that never exactly existed between them. Craig lowers into the cracked leather.

His gaze falls out of the window, to the passing scenery of familiar residential buildings and storefronts. Oddly enough, everything was not foreign. From the scenery of the town to Bebe and Kenny's friendship. Which had budded sometime in elementary school. Right when Tweek and Craig started dating.

Right after Craig and Kenny stopped hanging out.

Craig tries not to dwell too much on it. But his hazel stare falls on the little mirror in the car, and he focuses on Kenny. Craig is trying to be discreet with his curiosity.

He remembers the last time the two of them got together. It was the sunday before the drama with Tweek started to happen. They sat in Craig's living room with a sloth like mentality. Craig, pretzel style with his camera in his grip. Red Racer was on in the background. Bags of chips and candies rested next to them. Craig was looking at the photos he took of Kenny.

The one he was currently mulling over was a candid of Kenny at a picnic table. His attention was on the water of Starks pond. His hood down, blond hair a mess of waves that were curling, framing his face. Sticking up at all angles. Almost a little passed his ears.

He was lit up by the golden hour, the earths yellow dwarf resting and giving one final show before it went to bed. The glow coloring him in shades of orange.

Kenny lips were parted, and Craig remembers all the details. From the pink of Kenny's mouth, the flush of red on his cheeks, dusted down his neck. The way his finger was gingerly drumming against the surface of the table. There is a whole section in his photo albums of strictly Kenny, Tricia and Karen. The three of them were thick as thieves. This particular memory was glued onto the cover of one of his books. Tucked safely under his bed with Craig's collection of pictures.

Craig remembers Kenny looking at the captured moments over his shoulder. He was throwing back a can of cherry coke. Talking about how he was going to be a model. How Craig would be his photographer. How they'd run away from Colorado one day.

Craig's eyes flick away from the mirror and turns back to the road. Bebe and Kenny were chatting. Laughing and joking around. Craig can’t help but feel like a third wheel. He may be in their presence but he feels completely invisible. Like maybe he’s blended in with the shapes and makeup of the car and they can’t see him, but he can view them and listen to them,

It's a weird contrast. From talking about running away together, to complete silence. To not being in the same space until now. Kenny went into the shadows when Craig left, he was already fading away. His interactions with everyone becoming less and less. It’s like Craig was the last semblance of light he had. After that day, they never spoke again and Kenny was in the dark,

Craig tries to zone out to punk rock music. Ignore how odd the scenario is and the almost guilt he feels. He rests his head on the cool glass. Succumbs to the dim world behind eyelids and dozes off in the heat. His body soupy and clinging to the seats. When he opens up to the reality of awake, Craig is in an empty truck.

He wipes the sleep from his eyes and looks at his surroundings. Bebe is perched on the hood of Kenny's truck while Kenny is standing in front of her with his hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes look a little watery and red while Clyde is next to him. If the lazy movements and red eyes isn’t a tell tale, the fact that his best friend has a pipe in his hand is. Craig watches Clyde cough up a lung, he’s never really been into the 420 life. Yet smoke curls out of his mouth and fades into the warmth of summer. The pipe is passed to Bebe. And Kenny watches the exchange with a smirk adorning his face.

They are in the woods, parked on a path that leads to their campground. Kyle is setting up a tent, while Cartman pops marshmallows into his mouth, taking it easy on the sidelines while everyone else works. Stan is aiding Kyle with instructions gripped in one hand and poles in the others. They both look frustrated, Token and Wendy are faring better as they are finishing setting up their own place. Standing back and looking over their handy work while they talk and unpack their pillows and blankets.

There are another two tents set up, which Craig can only assume is Kenny and Bebe's. His and Clyde's.

Craig sits up and shimmies his way out of the truck, hopping down to the concrete surface. There is a slight breeze that licks at him. They are by a lake and it’s always just a bit cooler by water. He moves towards Clyde, who is all eyes on Bebe. This isn’t unsurprising as he always gravitates towards the most attractive and available girl he can find. The only other woman on this trip is Wendy and Red, Wendy obviously taken and Red being Craig's cousin—thus violating the rules of having a best friend. 

"Hey." Craig greets, he slings his luggage back into place on his shoulder. Clyde finally turns his attention to Craig, and lifts the corners of his mouth at him. Craig sees the flash of that grin and he almost resents Clyde as he has perfect, straight white teeth. He licks his own, self consciously. Tongue grazing the metal of his braces.

"Man. I love camping." Clyde says in his nasal. Craig lets out a snort at that. Remembering how Clyde recently just told him how he fucking hates this time of the year because of the bugs and heat and sweat. He decides to remain quiet about that though. Opting to shuffle his feet. Silent.

"I'm going to make burgers." Craig states as he turns away from them, and moves towards the little grill that is on their campsite. He briefly hears Bebe state that he is  _ 'so fucking weird _ '. However, he ignores this and begins to unpack the little ziplock bag he packed of pre made patties. It was stored away in the front of his backpack. Pressed between two cold compresses. Everyone else was productive while he was napping, so he guesses he should be too.

The day passes on with everyone setting up their quarters and eating the meal Craig makes. Laughing and horsing around. By the end of it they are seated around a hearty fire that Stan starts with his lighter and a bunch of sticks they find. Craig remembers that it’s the ones that are not damp that you have to search for, and soon enough they have enough to keep throwing into the pit.

The flames licks at the air, bright and beautiful. Craig sits next to Red. While Clyde, Bebe and Kenny sit together a few inches away. He finds it odd that Clyde isn't glued to his hip like usual. He’s a magnet and a copycat. Or he tries to be. Everyone used to get them mixed up, yet there are striking differences. Clyde is more emotional while Craig is more in control of himself. They both have logic though Clyde is more heaty and in the moment with his observations. They are closer than anyone Craig knows, or anyone he had in his life. Yet maybe that doesn’t mean a lot, he knows people without really knowing them. You can have the knowledge of a name with no actual history behind it. Craig doesn't question the distance, though. Instead remaining quiet next to Red as she complains,

"You won't believe who is camping next to us...uhg." Red says as she leans forward towards the burn, twisting the marshmallow around in the fire, poking into the end of a twig they found.

"Hm." Craig replies easily, only half interested. Red sighs again.

"Someone is camping next to us?" Kyle questions. His hands are gross and sticky and he tries to wipe them off on the blanket he is seated on. Stan passes him a wet wipe from his pack he has stored in his pocket.

"Oh, sweet man. We should invite them to hang out." Stan adds in as he takes a sip of liquor from a flask. He swirls the liquid in its enclosure a bit before he passes it to Kyle to take a swig.

"Not sweet. It's Lola and her stupid friends. She brought Esther and her loser brother." Red clarifies. And Craig rolls his eyes. Knowing that he has photos upon photos of Red and Kevin somewhere in his albums. Again, Craig remains silent. There is no need to dig up Red and Kevin’s history, it’s none of his business,

"Lola's hot." Clyde says, popping a marshmallow in his mouth. Bebe lets out a hum of agreement.

"I mean she quit the cheerleading squad, but yeah. She's gorgeous. Totally got that indie chick thing going on." Bebe adds in. She takes a sip of the drink passed to her. She gingerly hands the bottle to Kenny.

"We should invite them to go swimming tomorrow." Bebe suggests as Kenny downs the rest of the booze: Craig's eyes land on him, briefly, watching the way his Adam’s apples rises and falls before flicking his stare away. Instead his attention falls on Token and Wendy, who remain lost in their own little world. They're looking down at Token's phone, politely removed from the conversation. They are always in their own place, talking amongst themselves. Craig sort of admires that. He never wants to do romance again, but if there is a power couple in South Park—it’s Token and Wendy, 

"No. We shouldn't." Red states, harshly. Craig rolls his eyes. He knows Red. She’s projecting. This isn't some stupid rivalry thing. Craig knows how much Red stalks Kevin's facebook, his instagram, his tumblr. She’s missed him for years, never really got over their breakup. What she doesn’t notice is Kevin looks at her  _ too _ . It’s a mutual yearning. So instead of keeping his mouth shut, Craig speaks up.

"I think it's a good idea." He says, just to piss Red off. She throws a nasty look in his direction. Brows furrowed, lipstick coated mouth parted with clenched teeth as if she’s containing herself from telling him to fuck off.

"What'd I miss guys?" Cartman says as he sits down, stomach and boxers exposed. He zips his pants yet his briefs with little cheesy poof logos is caught up in it, Bebe lets out a laugh at that, it’s quiet but gets just a little louder and Kenny is reserving himself in, a sort of twist smeared about, as if he’s going to snicker but it holding it back from entering the world.

It’s Kyle that says something.

“Ew, fatass! Put your fucking underwear away! No one wants to see your shit stains.”

Cartman's expression flairs to one of anger and disgust at being talked to in such a way. It’s not unusual for him and Kyle to be neck and neck at each other. It’s a given,

"What! Fuck you Kyle! You stupid Jew!" Cartman complains and fumes. He pushes himself next to Kyle, who is laying his head on Stan's lap. Stan lazily runs his fingers through his red, curled hair. His eyelashes rest on his cheek, alcohol making him sleepy.

"If there is anything gross , it's how gay Stan and Kyle are! Get a room you fags!” 

By the end of the night the fire is put out. Craig stands by Clyde's tent, tired and waiting, he could just go in without him, yet he doesn't. They haven’t talked all night and maybe they should for just a bit. Or really, Clyde chatter and Craig listen. That’s their dynamic, Clyde going on and on and Craig taking it in with the patience of someone who has dealt with this his whole life. Yet as Clyde approaches him, so does Bebe. Craig noticed that Clyde has his arm wrapped around her middle. Fingers twisted into the fabric of her frilly, red shirt.

"Craig. Uh..." Clyde starts. He smiles nervously at him and Bebe smiles too, more confident with her approach. Something sort of smug is underlying, a look of 'i won this' written all over her. Though what Bebe has won, Craig is unsure of.

"Clyde and I are sharing a tent. Sorry, dude." She says. And Craig's mouth is again pressed firmly together. His brows furrow. It’s not like Craig really cares. He’s a big boy and can handle his own. Yet there is still a very lacking space next to him that has someone’s belongings all messily set up as if there is an intent for someone to fill it.

"then whose shit is next to mine? Who am I sleeping with?" Craig inquires. At that moment, a hand falls on his shoulder. Craig looks up and follows the length to Kenny, who has stolen his spot as the tallest kid in their class many years ago. He used to be so tiny, but somewhere along the way he shot up. Lanky but not awkward. Not like Craig. He has more confidence. Self assurance in his long limbs. He didn’t at first, Craig remembers how sickly he’d look at times. Somewhere along the way he’d gain more meat. Craig remembers someone talking about how he works as a farmhand with a friend he made from City Wok.

Kenny tilts his head to look at him. A toothy smile directed at Craig, gapped and slightly yellow, 

"With me." Kenny squeezes Craig's shoulder and Clyde snickers at that. Bebe elbows him.

Craig is brought back to earlier when he and Clyde were separated, and has a kind of deja vu feeling. It’s similar but different, it’s not like they were intentionally for the car ride. Yet maybe they were for the campfire. It doesn’t matter and he tries to stifle it. 

"I promise to be gentle, babe." Kenny jokes. Craig remains blank, as if he didn’t quite register what was said to him. Though he rolls his eyes, raises a middle finger at him, and shakes his hand off.

"Who says I like gentle?" Craig expects a laugh from Kenny, but it’s only Clyde who snickers. Craig rolls his eyes at that, he can feel Kenny staring and it makes him feel sort of hot and embarrassed. Like he shouldn’t have made that joke. And when he looks to Bebe she has a sort of pissed off air to her.

"Hot. Come on, Craig. Let's head to bed." Kenny says as he nods his head in the direction of their tent. Craig lets out a long suffering sigh. They walk the short distance, Craig dropping to his knees to unzip the door to the tent, climbing into the small space. Craig positions himself comfortably, pulling blankets over his frame. There are piles and piles of them and he doesn't know why they have so many, it's so stuffy. 

He closes his eyes and rests his head down on the thin pillow he packed, never being able to stand fluffier comfort. It's quiet, just nature's chorus. Silent between them. An unspoken agreement to just let this be. Craig can hear Kenny tossing and turning. The sound of breathing, he tunes it out and tries to succumb to the dark. Drifts off into the seduction of slumber.

When he opens them again it's a blue instead of the pitch black that it was at night. Craig sits up. Looks to his side to see that he is alone. He stays there for a few seconds. Checks his phone to find it is 4am before placing it back down,

They all headed in at 1AM, but Craig always wakes up at weird times. It doesn’t matter what time he falls into bed, he’ll always wake up early. He unzips the tent and steps out to the desolate forest. It's eerie, almost. Everything is illuminated by the moon, and it casts that glow on the world.

Craig can see Kenny's form by the fire pit. He almost decides to go back into the tent and try to sleep, but for some reason his eyes stay on him. He doesn't know why, but he feels like he wants to be with Kenny right now. So instead he steps forward, bare feet digging into dry soil as he crosses the distance and takes a seat next to him. There were still sheets placed down by the fire pit. Far enough to not get set ablaze, close enough to roast marshmallows with a stick.

"Still wake up at piss o clock, I see." Kenny states. Craig remains quiet. His slender fingers prod at a fallen leaf on the ground. He picks it up and holds it in his grip.

"Why are you up?" Craig pries. Kenny lets out a hum, leaning his head back and shrugs.

"Can't sleep." Kenny says, simply. But Craig can't help but feel there is more to it. He doesn't press the issue, however.

It's quiet. A long and empty width between them, that hasn't been filled for years. The time they’ve been separated has accumulated awkwardly and thickly. Yet still, Kenny turns towards Craig and looks at him. Blue eyes roaming, searching Craig. It’s like he's trying to break into and past the millions of walls and defenses put up between them, Craig avoids his stare.

"Remember when we were kids? How we wanted to run away?" Kenny asks. He has a smile forming on his face. Full and cheeky, gap toothed. Craig stares at it, brief. It's pretty much the same as when they were younger. Crooked but more yellow, probably one of Kenny's only physical flaws. It's not like his family had the money to take care of his dental hygiene. Craig's own family has always been less fortunate with their income. Better off then the Mccormicks, however.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." Craig answers. He smiles ever so slightly at the thought.

"Where are you going after this summer?" Kenny questions. Craig pokes at the fire pit. He almost feels embarrassed for what he's about to admit.

"Park County Community College." He could go somewhere else, his grades were decent enough. Craig always wanted to leave South Park. However, it sucks you in. Once you enter South Park, your tie isn't just broken. You always end up back there for some reason. Craig remembers his step father, Thomas trying to leave. Only to come back months later with his tail between his legs.

Craig could leave. Something was keeping him, though. He could never place his finger on it. It's like he had some unfinished business with South Park, and he needed just a few more years before he tried to break the bond. Maybe it's because his mom needed him. Craig knows how strained her and Thomas' relationship is. They remain together for Tricia’s sake. The deal is that he leaves when she graduates. Their relationship is based on mutual love for their kids and is meaningless in other regards. That couldn’t be all, though, Maybe it's because Clyde was staying behind too. Craig hates to admit it, but Clyde was the closest thing Craig had to a best friend. They don’t talk much...well, Craig doesn’t, but it is company in a very lonely world.

"What changed?" Kenny questions. Craig shifts uncomfortably, he knows what Kenny means. Remembers nights in the same bed talking about how he was going to go to some fancy school to become a photographer. They would lay next to each other in the dark and talk of running to New York. Of being famous, of renting a flat together,

"I don't know." Craig admits. His face is hot and he almost feels like there are tears forming. He really doesn’t know, so drops the leaf, discards it to the ground where all the rest lay. Fading in with the foliage.

"Hm..." Is all Kenny says.

Kenny turns his attention away from Craig. Baby blues focused on the moon. The stars litter the navy canvas of the sky.

"Still ship the blue and red racer?" Kenny question. Craig lets out a scoff at that. Christ. That’s an odd thing to bring up, shipping fictional characters. It wasn’t really a popular term when they were kids. Kenny and Craig just used to tell eachother stories about their favorite couple over hot chocolate in Craig’s room, their relationship was nice then. An escape from Kenny’s rough and dangerous friendships and family. Craig never could figure out why he hated being around his main friends so often. They get into stupid shit but Kenny still went out of his way to hang out with them, and still does to this day. Craig could understand his mother and father, though it never made sense to get sent to the moon or Peru or whatever so frequently, 

The only thing he ever said about it was  _ “I like that you’re plain and boring,” _

It's humid, and Craig swipes the back of his hand across his forehead. Perspiration collected on the surface.

"I mean." Craig pauses. Trying to find the right way to word this. He rests his hand in his lap. Wiping the sweat off of his hand and onto his shorts.

"Yeah. Not as much. The Red racer has some competition with orange." Craig explains. Kenny lets out a snicker at that. Lips parting in false shock. 

"They were your otp, dude:" Craig runs a hand through his hair, embarrassed.

"I was 10." He says, simple. There is no other way to explain that. Kenny tsks at him. He scoots closer to Craig and lifts up his long sleeve. On his wrist is a simple little illustration. A little orange and blue spaceman in the form of a tattoo. There are holding hands and there is watercolor like strokes behind them forming a galaxy aesthetic, little stars dot the area too,

"I always shipped orange and blue. I was just too afraid to admit it. You had such a boner for red and blue." Kenny looks down at Craig, a happy, dorky smile there. Craig can't help to smile back. Kenny's happiness is kind of infectious. It's nice to see. Craig remembers nights where he'd hear Kenny sobbing into his pillow. He’d feel him shaking next to him in his tears, And even though Craig hasn't seen that in awhile, it still causes a little twist in his heart. An ache at the memory. Craig may traditionally wear blue, but Kenny was more internally dark. Even if on the external he was orange. Vibrant.

It's funny, really. Craig gingerly runs his fingertips across Kenny's tattoo'd flesh. Orange and blue. Kenny's favorite color, Craig's favorite color.

Craig goes to retreat his hand from Kenny, but Kenny twists his own around. So their palms are facing each other. He grips onto Craig's hand. Craig thinks he should pull away, but he doesn't want to. Kenny's hand is sweaty and gross, fingers curling to intertwine with his. However, so is Craig's. Wet and hot. Maybe it was kind of weird, but Craig didn't mind. He's brought back to that field trip in fourth grade. Where the night before Kenny called Craig. Asked him in a muffled voice if he'd be his partner.

They sit there in the blue hue of early morning. Talking about Red Racer shipping, Karen and Tricia, stars and galaxies and the universe.

They talk until Craig finds himself falling asleep on Kenny. Somehow Craig finds himself lying between Kenny's legs. Head rested on his stomach, listening to him talk away. It's like a song, a lullaby that fades away eventually.

He drifts off, dreaming of orange and blue galaxies.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have like one more revision I have to make to the first chapter ffff but I wanted to get this up.

When Craig wakes up, it is the tickling of rays beaming down on his face that greets him. He sits up. Looking around. He doesn't find Kenny. Instead Lola has somehow found a spot next to him, her hair twisted into two buns on the sides of her head. She has glittery eyeshadow carefully crafted on her eyelids. Clear lipgloss smeared onto her lips.

"You're lovely when you sleep." She says, Craig rubs the crud from his eyes. She sounds a little airy and Craig always thought it was intentional. Maybe she did it because of nerves or to seem more gentle in nature. However, listening to it in the nice and slight chill of morning with sun licking at his face is almost pleasant to wake to. Much better than his sister's boyfriend snoring across the hall from him. Ike Broflovski was not a graceful sleeper. Craig thinks Lola probably is though. Maybe her ginger voice is less purposely done than he thinks. He doesn't respond though he looks at her very briefly, and he’s pulling his cellphone out of his pocket to check the time just as quickly.

11:32 AM

Craig takes in his surroundings. Wendy is poking at the grill with a spatula. She gingerly turns over the Italian sausages she is cooking. Her hair tied in a bun, wearing Token's tshirt that is way too big on her. Token is bigger than most people with large muscles he’s worked tediously on since Junior year. He used to be really thin and sort of awkward. It’s like he decided one day that he would try to bulk up. Craig remembers hearing the conversation he and Clyde had about it before he really started to put his regime into action. Token sounding sort of fed up with being a stick, Clyde listened while he shoved a burger from the schools hot bar in his mouth. One gained weight while the other muscle. Token stands near Wendy in present time, mouth moving as she presses down on one of the pieces of meat. They've been dating for quite some time, and Craig wonders how Stan feels about it.

Wendy and Stan broke up a long time ago, and were on good terms. Their relationship was more of an elementary school thing. So it probably doesn't bother him anymore. Token, however, broke it off with Nicole last year. They went strong for years and it was quite a shock. Yet somehow he and Wendy always sort of worked in Craig’s eyes. Always partnering for projects and being on the same wavelengths in core values and interests. Whenever a debate was started in class and Wendy was the forefront Token would pipe in to her defense against—most likely Cartman. Yet surprising at times Kyle, Heidi, many others. Token and Wendy always had each others backs.

Always.

Craig scans the group. He quickly notices there are more people gathered at their site. Esther and Powder chatting with Kevin At a picnic table with Kevin looking very third wheel next to his sister and her best friend. Red helping Bebe french braid her hair, purposely having her back turned away from the Stoley siblings and Powder. She always does this when her ex is around and now is no different. Stan and Kyle are ripping on Cartman. His fat cheeks red from embarrassment or anger. Craig can't tell.

And Clyde. Clyde coming towards Craig. With his hands shoved into his pockets looking sort of defeated.

Clyde plops next to Lola and lets out a long, exasperated sigh. He yanks his fist out of his pocket and uncurls it to run a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. The chocolate locks fall in his face as he slams his hand down on his lap.

"She wants to be _just friends:_ " Clyde announces, ignoring Lola's presence. She turns her body in his direction, tilting her head curiously. Lola's blue eyes drift away from Craig, to Clyde. Just an observer to a conversation she probably isn’t welcome in.

"Oh." Craig responds. He pulls a leaf out of his tousled hair. This isn’t good and he lets out a sigh at what is to come. He doesn't expect Clyde to cry, he hasn't had an all out burst of tears since his mom died. It’s like his well has dried up or he is repressing himself from having that release. However, Clyde was heavily emotional and now more lets it come out as anger. It’s not often but it’s unlike Craig, who reserves.

"Is it because I smell like beef? Because i know i smell like beef, ok? It’s fucking hot. I thought she liked me, man." Clyde rambles on, his teeth clenching with his hands balling up again. Craig stares at the fire pit, always finding it hard to look at Clyde like this. He opts to stare at the piles of ashes and burnt up sticks.

"I thought we had something. We dated in elementary, remember?" Clyde is leaned forward. His elbows digging into his thighs, chin rested in his palm. He lets out another exaggerated sigh of frustration.

Lola reaches a hand towards Clyde, hesitant and pausing before she fixes his messy bangs. She pushes them away from his eyes while seemingly growing more confident. He’s sweaty and damp, and his hair is sticking to his forehead. Yet somehow Lola doesn’t seem to mind. Clyde looks sort of startled, alarmed. He is turning his head towards Lola with his eyes wide and a sort of shock written across his face.

"It's not the time." Lola in, she is twirling a strand of his hair on her finger. It's timidly and she’s a bit nervous, somehow Craig thinks Lola isn’t being flirtatious but comforting, friendly and playful. Craig can't figure out how she does that. She obviously is scared but just goes ahead with courage even though Clyde is initially uncomfortable. Her gaze is on him and so is Craig’s, watching as Clyde sort of eases just a bit. Craig, again, feels more like a third wheel. 

"You're a great guy. I see you sometimes, you know. About." She pauses her shaking hand and retreats. Letting her hand drop to her sides and she pushes herself up. She’s gently quivering and she stands, dusting her khaki skirt off. Clyde actually sort of looks to be reaching for her touch, like he didn’t want it to go.

"You're lovely. I see her too, you know. But Bebe...she doesn't want you right now." Lola smiles at Clyde, and she exposes her braces to him with her toothy grin. She's all dimples, cheeky and shy.

"Please don’t be too mad. Bebe...needs to grieve." she very quickly looks to Craig before she turns to walk off towards her friends, folding her arms and looking embarrassed as she leaves Clyde to think over what she said. Craig looks at him as he watches Lola. He's completely focused on her, as if Bebe just went out the window.

"Am I really lovely?" Clyde questions, eyes glued on Lola. Craig rolls his eyes. Lets out a "no" that he is more than sure is ignored. He stands and makes his way to his tent, unzipping it and crawling inside. He feels around for his bag, buried under the blankets. When he finds it he pulls out his traveling charger. His phone battery is low, but the object runs on double aa's. Craig plugs in his phone, and then pulls out a tshirt to change into.

He's tugging off his old tshirt, an ugly brown thing with some band logo on it. When he hears the tent unzipping again. Craig looks over his shoulder at Kenny, who pauses for a few seconds. His gaze flicks to Craig's exposed shoulders and back. Tanned and littered with little beauty marks. Nothing like Kenny's freckles, Craig doubts Kenny is taking in the details, anyways. 

It's not like Kenny hasn't seen Craig naked. He probably doesn't care. So Craig doesn't understand the quiet that falls. Is it awkward now that they aren't kids?

Blue falls on green, and Craig turns away quickly. Breaking the eye contact. For some reason he feels his cheeks heating and he hopes it doesn’t show on him. He drops the old shirt, holds up the new for a few seconds. Just going about his business as if he isn’t ashamed of his thin and lanky body on display for Kenny. The logo on the shirt is just some illustration of a camcorder. Craig doesn't know where the hell he got it, thinks it might have been a christmas present.

"Wendy made breakfast." Kenny says. He lowers into the quarters, and Craig can hear him poking around for something. Blankets and material shuffling in his search. He must have found it, because he lets out an "ah ha!"

Craig ignores that however, tries to awkwardly pull on some new shorts in the confines of the tent. They were supposed to go to the lake today, so Craig decides to put on his swim trunks. He's about to leave, when Kenny grabs a hold on his hand.

"Hey, wait." Kenny tugs gently on Craig, and Craig turns around. He pulls his hand out of Kenny's grasp, letting it fall to his side.

"Smoke with me." Kenny requests. He holds up two cigarettes in his grip. Craig's eyes dart to the little sticks. He sits down again, amongst the pillows and blankets. He's hungry, can smell the sausages and eggs Wendy has cooked. They say it's a lot more satisfying to smoke after you ate, but who really cares about that. He claims to have quit a long time ago. Yet seeing the addiction in front of him so easy to take is hard to say no to. Doesn’t matter how long it’s been. Craig takes the tobacco handed to him.

They light up, flame flickering for a few seconds. Adding to the humidity of the environment in a brief spark. It dies out just as quick as it enters. Just as Craig takes his finger off the trigger of his lighter. He holds the small object up to Kenny's little stick. It's pressed between his pink lips, and as Craig ignites it he takes an inhale. Then pulls it away, exhaling the fumes. Craig lets the lighter rest between them, hiding somewhere in the sheets.

"God, i needed that." Kenny lays on his back, closes his eyes as he takes hits. He lets out a content hum. 

"Oh?" Craig questions. His hazel eyes fall on Kenny. His relaxed, easy frame. He decides to drag his gaze away from him. Opting to look out at the screened, unzipped window in their tent. It leads to scenery of the forest, of Kenny's truck parked next to Kyle's vehicle among the trees. They are rather deep into the forest. 

"Yeah. Red and Bebe, girls are driving me insane. Bebe keeps bitching about how much Red wants to ride on Kevin's dick. Bebe's fed up." Kenny explains. He taps some of the ashes of his cigarette out in an empty sprite can. He had been drinking it the night before and left it. It’s contents are probably warm and flat. This is not something Craig misses about smoking—the risk of drinking contaminated beverages after forgetting you dropped ashes into it. It’s good he doesn’t drink soda, and that’s all everyone brought outside of water bottles which are clear and see through.

Craig keeps silent at this. He doesn't care for anyone's drama. Does he find rumors amusing, funny? Sure. He's had his laugh at others expense. Kenny and he both have. He remembers shit talking people with Kenny all the time. Remembers anime being on in the background and Kenny talking about the girls he kissed. How it was rumored that so and so was a lesbian. How this person has an sti. They were so young, and Kenny knew too much. He'd always talk shit. However, Craig doesn't like to be the target. Another reason he didn't want to come to this camp out. If it wasn't giant robots attacking the town it was babble and spilled secrets between his classmates or fellow residence. Even the adults in town weren’t innocent of this. He has kept out of it for years.

For the most part.

"She's always been in love with him." Craig snuffs out his cigarette. Deciding to save the short for later. He stuffs it in his pocket, where he'll find it again in a few hours. 

Kenny lets out a hum of agreement. Taking another drag. Craig wonders how Kenny knows. Of course Kenny and Red were close as kids, it came with the territory if having her as an annoying cousin. Kenny as his friend, got to know her. It just wasn't as obvious these days. Red's infatuation for Kevin, especially since Kevin and Red never talked. Since Red never talks about it. She thinks it's a well concealed secret.

"Doesn't Bebe live for gossip?" Craig questions. He doesn't really know Bebe like that. She always stares at Craig like she thinks the dirt of him. She's all brown eyes and big blond curls. Plush breast and nice hips. A stereotype of dumb blond. At least in the look department. Craig wasn't so fond of her after she used Clyde to get free shoes when they were kids. Craig remembers her breaking up with Clyde when she finally got through with him. Opting to date a sixth grader.

Yet still, even he can admit her scheme was pretty clever.

Still, what made the two of them gravitate towards each other as adults, Craig wasn't sure.

Kenny lets out a scoff in response. Then a chuckle.

"Nah. Bebe's really chill. She can be a bitch, but she doesn't really like drama." Kenny elaborates. He snuffs of his cigarette, discarding the butt into the empty sprite bottle. There is still some of the beverage at the bottom, so he doesn’t have to shake the cherry around to extinguish it. It hisses out as soon as it drops into the liquid. With a yawn, Kenny sits up. He nods his head in the direction of the tents entrance.

"Come on, food." 

Kenny and Craig leave the tent, finding everyone gathered around picnic tables or the fire pit. Kenny heads towards Bebe, and Craig goes to get himself some plastic utensils. Wendy and Token are seated at the table everything is placed, along with Cartman and Kyle. Kyle is throwing insults at Cartman while he fires back. Kyle's face dusted with red, brows pressed downwards in anger. His food sits in front of him, untouched. No pork anywhere to be found. While Carrman has a fork stabbed into his food. Waving it around as he mocks and ridicules Kyle.

"Mmm, Kahl. How does it feel, not being able to eat pork? Oh it tastes so good in my tummy." Cartman says as he takes a hearty bite of his sausage. He rubs his stomach as he does it, palm stroking the surface. 

Craig isn’t even shocked or upset when Kyle slaps the food out of Cartman's hand, and it flies. Lands on the dirty ground. Eggs scatter about and the remaining sausage link rolls into the soil. There will be ants gathered on top of the area in a few hours when they return.

"At least I don't look like pork, fat ass!" 

Craig lets out a sigh and doesn’t give them attention, instead gathering the things he needs. When he's done Craig turns around, ready to get away from them and sit somewhere less upsetting with no bug infested food everywhere in the grass. 

"Wait, Craig." Wendy calls out to him. He pauses because he and Wendy seldom talk, so it catches his attention. Craig's gaze falls on her, then to Token. Who speak up faster than her.

"You and Kenny are friends again?" Token questions, a look of genuine curiosity is there. A part of him wonders why it matters, really. People knew they stopped talking but he didn’t think it really meant anything. Craig's eyes narrow to Kenny, who is chatting up Bebe and Red. Bebe's hair is now in a twist of curls. Braided down her back. Red's own hair is sloppily thrown in a bun atop her head as if she didn’t want to put much effort into it. Kenny's golden hair is a bit passed his ears. Wavey, curling at the ends, sticking up all over the place. The sunlight hits him and he glows in it. He's so bright. Orange. Craig thinks this, remembering his thoughts the other night. He's laid back, smiling at the girls as they talk to him with such animation.

"Friends is a strong word." Craig responds. He looks away from the small group. Back to Token and Wendy. They look at each other, very briefly as if they know something he doesn’t. Chocolate eyes falling on Wendy's honey colored ones.

"Well it's good you're talking at least." Token says, he stabs at his eggs. He looks contemplative and he pushes it around on his plate.

"Yeah, you guys used to be pretty close." Wendy adds in. They were. Craig doesn't know why it stopped. He didn't think about it at first, when he and Tweek got together. But when his dad left for the time he did, Craig remembers his finger hovering over Kenny's name in his contacts. He only had it because of their old friendship. It was most likely outdated and Kenny probably got a new phone. Yet still, he remembers tearing through old photo albums. He remembers resenting Kenny, feeling alone and like he needed his friend the most in that moment. Feeling abandoned and alone. Craig remembers being sort of sour and avoiding any flash of orange that would capture his eyes the following days.

He recalls purely missing him when he got home after one particular day when he walked past Kenny and Bebe in the hallway. Bebe noticed he was looking and her brows lowered to a look of distaste at him. As if warning him off.

He stopped looking, after awhile. Stifled it. Told himself not to. Kenny has obviously moved on and was content without him.

Why should he not do the same?

Craig expects Wendy and Token to question him more about it, but they go back to their food as soon as it starts. Craig tilts his head, sort of perplexed as to why it was even brought up or why he thought it would be dragged longer than it needed to be. He turns around to get his own meal.

When everyone is done eating they laze about with full and happy tummies. Talking amongst each other and enjoying the light breeze that is a relief from the heat that is started to really befall as the hour gets later. Craig enjoys his somewhat solitude by the fire pit. He’s accompanied by Lola and Clyde, but they are talking. Completely ignoring Craig's presence. Lola is throwing her head back in laughter at something Clyde has said. Clyde looks on with wonder, what he said wasn't intentionally funny. It should be offensive, but Craig can tell Clyde finds Lola genuine amusement endearing.

Craig stares at the loading page for tumblr. The stupid thing has been lagging all morning, which isn’t a shock as he is buried in the woods. He presses the button to darken the screen. Placing the electronic down next to him. Choosing to opt out of using technology. 

"Craig!" Lola exclaims, disrupting his quiet and alone. She is fishing around in her oversized purse, the sound of whatever she has in its depths makes a bit of noise. It looks like she packed a lot in her bag. When she finds what she is looking for she lets a hum of content. She pulls the object out her pocket book, and in her hands is a camera. Lola is all dimpled grins as she extends it out to Craig.

"You were in photography club. Can you take a decent picture of us?" She inquires. Craig perks a bit at this, he's so stupid. Forgetting to pack his own camera. It lays on the desk in Clyde's room, probably collecting dust. He sincerely thought he wouldn’t get any quality photos. Even if it’s just a capture of Lola and Clyde, at least he can say he caught something to remember this trip that isn’t low resolution. 

"Sure" He takes the camera into his grasp. Turns it on, fiddles around with the settings until he finds the right one. Lola and Clyde huddle together. Clyde throwing his arm around Lola's shoulder, Lola resting her head on Clyde's chest. Her fingers curl into the fabric of his red tshirt that has the logo for modern baseball on it. A dog with sunglasses in a circle, their band name wrapped around it.

"Ready?" Craig asks as he steps back, trying to find a good way to take the picture. He hates when his subjects are dead set in the middle. Craig steps the side, trying to capture them more in the corner of the photo. He crouched and balances himself in a position where he is angling the camera more upwards. He messing around, looking at the screen to see what he’s doing. When he’s satisfied he snaps more than few, moving around to capture them in different ways. When he's done he looks it over critically. 

The one he likes the most is a nice photo, a stream of sunlight flowing in from the corner. Framing them perfectly in gold. Craig passes the camera to Lola to look over what was taken, she smiles at it; obviously pleased.

"It's perfect! A memory of new friends!" She says, and Clyde looks a bit crestfallen at that. She turns around to pull Clyde in a hug, and Craig watches as Clyde buries his nose into her neck. Clyde is quick to fall in love and he twists his fingers into the back of her shirt. It’s a bit longer than is probably appropriate but it seems like Lola doesn’t want to let go either. Yet she does, even if Clyde doesn't look like he wants to. She then turns to Craig, arms extended out at her sides. He stares at her for a few seconds, blank. Everyone knows Craig isn’t a hugger. If the black eye he gave Ike that one time was enough to go by. He doesn’t care if Ike and Tricia are dating. Still, he lets Lola wrap her arms around him. 

She smells sweet, like she sprayed some body mist on herself before she left her tent. Or maybe she got a shower before she came over.

Either way, she pulls away and goes back to sitting with Clyde. Craig goes to take his seat back on the blanket. Letting himself sink down as he closes his eyes, slipping away. He doesn't get to sleep long, however. Maybe a good twenty minutes before Stan announces that he and Kyle are going to the lake. At this, everyone else begins to stand and get ready to walk over. Craig sits up, and then picks himself up. He shoves his hands in his pockets, strolling in the direction everyone else is going towards the water. 

Craig steps through the path. The sun is shielded by leaves and branches, filtering in at odd spots. It would be a perfect photo shoot, and it's too bad Craig left his camera. His phone just isn't that good at taking pictures.

The lake comes into view after a short walk through the forest and as they step closer the path ends. The light hits Craig's and he has to lift a hand to shield his face with his arm for a few seconds at the onslaught of bright. 

Stan and Kyle are already in the water, having jumped off the dock. Cartman runs past Craig, hopping into the water. It causes a huge splash, which Kyle and Stan let a "christ" to. Quickly swimming backwards to avoid being hit.

  
  


When everyone is in Craig makes his way to the end of the pier. He puts his feet into the water, letting them soak. He doesn't intend to get in. He watches as everyone plays together in the lake.

Bebe and Stan are splashing water at each other. Laughing and giggling while they battle. While Cartman and Kyle are trying to push each other under the surface. Esther, Clyde, Lola and Powder are floating in the deeper part. Their heads above water, hands gently moving in a motion to stabilize them. Red and Kevin are talking with Token and Wendy. Craig is shocked by that, he watches as Red smiles at Kevin, and he smiles back. Oblivious.

As Craig searches for Kenny, he can hear wet footsteps slapping against the pavement. Coming towards him. Kenny perches himself next to Craig. Their thighs touch, and Craig can feel the dampness of Kenny's flesh against his. 

"Are you going to get wet for me?" Kenny questions, he always makes things sound filthy. He continues on, though, as Craig raises a middle finger at him.

"I know you're so hot and bothered. God, i hate summer." Kenny finishes. Craig looks at the water, the scenery before them. Towering mountains in the distant, trees thick with green leaves. 

"I hate you." Craig retorts. Kenny bumps their shoulder together, moistening Craig's shirt. Making a big, damp patch. 

"Everyone loves me." Craig scoffs at Kenny's comment. He's not exactly wrong, though. There is not a single person that dislikes Kenny. Even when he had grown quiet, mild. No one hated him. He has a magnetic personality. Craig has even seen him sit next to hissing stray cats and turn them into putty.

"Still have that short?" Kenny pries. And Craig nods his head, sticking his hand in his pocket to get it. It's still rather long, as Craig only took about two drags from it. Kenny hands him his lighter and cups his hands in front of the cigarette. So no wind can break the barrier. It is pressed between Craig's pink lips. Eventually after struggling with the breeze, which hits at odd angles, it lights. Craig places two fingers on either side of the stick and pulls it away from his mouth after taking a puff. He passes the cigarette to Kenny.

"I have weed, you know." Craig mumbles, his feet delicately kicking at the water. As if disturbing it would cause some lake monster to pull him in. Kenny watches the movement. Craig's feet breaking the surface of the lake, gliding back and forth. 

"Bless your heart." Kenny says, he passes the cigarette to Craig. Now down to half of what it was. Craig takes in an inhale, intending to finish it. 

"Save it, though. Another time." Kenny says. He drops his own feet in the water. He was sitting pretzel style next to Craig. After feeling the temperature Kenny lets his whole body slip down into the deep. He goes under for a few seconds, then pokes his head up. 

Little droplets roll down Kenny's face. From his hair, falling from his temple and rolling down the length of his cheek. Craig automatically is struck with the thought that Kenny is beautiful. He can see why so many people fancy him, how easy it is for Kenny to get laid. He really is model material. Sun baked skin, freckles dotted about like constellations. Baby blue eyes that glisten in the sunlight. Blond lashes falling to shield the orbs, eyelids crafted in a way that makes him look sleepy. Not like Craig's, who's eyelids make him look high. But what captures Crag is Kenny's lips, pink and soft. Plush and kissable. Craig looks away from him, up at the scenery instead. He feels his face heating up, it's hot out.

"Craig, come on. Come in." Kenny requests. Craig shakes his head. Hand self consciously reaching to his ears. He gingerly brushes his fingertips against the flesh. His hair covers them, for the most part. Craig can't stand his ears being exposed. Not when they poke out so much. It’s not mouse like or anything, yet he is insecure about their shape.

Kenny sends a look at him, not confused or perplexed. Curious, though. It's as if he is going to say something but bites his tongue. Craig hates when people do that, prefers honesty over all. But Kenny brushes it off. Letting his body fall behind, opting to float on his back. 

Craig's gaze shifts from the scenery to Kenny. Watches as he floats across the exterior of the water. 

They stay there for a few hours. Kenny and Craig bickering and chatting. At some point, everyone starts to head back to the campground. Craig stands to leave, making his way towards the showers by the beach. He steps into the bathroom, and is instantly hit with the scent of some weird air freshener. It's clearly there to mask the smell of shit and piss. Craig kicks off his sandals, picking them up and holding them as he walks towards the nearest shower. 

He pulls the curtain shut, stripping from his clothes. It's then that he realizes that he forgot his body wash. His searches out the premises. They land on the the little dispenser that has some generic brand shampoo and soap. Craig lets out a sigh. Twists the faucet on and steps back before he is hit with icy water.

When the temperature rises, he steps under the consistent stream. Presses down on the dispenser. He used his hands and fingers to wash away the dirt, sweat and grime. He scrubs through his hair, cleansing that too.

When he's done Craig rests his head against the tiled wall. Letting the water run down his body.

He doesn't know why, but he thinks of Kenny. Thinks of the way he looks at him with those big, blue eyes. How it’s like he knows something Craig doesn't. Like he can rip Craig to pieces, and then put him back together. Better than he was before. He thinks of plush lips.

Craig's fingers curl around his dick. He thinks of kissing those lips. Of letting his own trail down to Kenny's neck. Of Kenny fingers gripping his sides and sliding down the length of his body. Of being pressed into any surface, of being open for Kenny to take whatever he wants from him. It’s dangerous but he imagines just. Blooming in front of him, letting his legs fall open for Kenny to tease his hole. Pressing in and stretching Craig around his fingers until he’s opened enough to be pulled into Kenny lap. Craig imagines staring into Kenny’s eyes as he pushes his length into Craigs heat. Starting with slow strokes and Craig’s hesitant rocking that quickly becomes faster, desperate, hot and messy—a loss of all reservation and control. 

Craig cums with one final tug at his length. Letting out a hitch of breath. Ropes of white squirt from him and he’s moaning and his breathing is shallow, and Craig lets his arm fall to his side.

The cum washes off, swirling down the drain.

"Fuck." Craig mumbles. He turns the handle of the shower, letting the water come to a stop. He still stands there in the nude. Trying to catch his breath. He closes his eyes and invites the pitch black, however brief.

The bliss of cumming is mixed with anxiety of thoughts that begin to very slowly work their way into him trying to come to. _It’s normal to think about people you know like that_ . Craig thinks. _Normal_. Craig is sure he has had fantasies about Clyde. About Token. It's normal. However Craig thinks of Tweek and his messy break up not long after his parents divorce, of why they broke up. Of missing Kenny. That gnawing ache of want for his friend. Of Kenny not being there when Craig needed him. It's normal, it’s normal to have sex fantasies. It just _can't_ happen in real life.

_Why is his body crying for it to happen?_

Craig pulls back the curtain to the shower, slowly dressing. His hands quiver, he has to have dropped his shorts at least three times. His mind darts back and forth between Kenny, and Tweek, and his parents. Of what he wants and what he wants to deny. And before he can stop himself, Craig is leaning into the shower, barfing up the sausages and eggs he ate for breakfast.

When he's done hurling he wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. He shakily checks his phone. 6:45pm, eyes wet and he’s sounding sort of sniffly from his sick, 

He takes big, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Walks the distance from the showers to the campground. Craig is so disoriented that he doesn't even take in his surrounding, the low sun. The colors of the sky bleeding together from light blue to orange to pink. He's overwhelmed, and he can't comprehend why he's letting a little wank fantasy about Kenny get to him. It does, though.

When he arrives at the campsite he slips into his tent. Rests his head on his pillow and curls into himself. A sort of little ball. Avoiding the noise and chatter of everyone else. Ignores the sun setting. The sound of cackling fire. Of everyone and everything else.

Somehow he falls asleep. He doesn't dream of anything. Just pitch black. Just silent darkness.

It's 5 am when he wakes up. Craig looks down at his phones screen. It illuminates him in the dark of the tent. Coloring him in it's glow. Craig then looks at his surroundings and realizes he’s alone. Kenny is not in the tent with him. Craig doesn't know if he finds that relieving. He should. _Why doesn’t he find that relieving?_ He falls back. Staring at the arched ceiling. 

His hair clings to his forehead, damp from sweat. Craig turns his head towards the empty space where Kenny is supposed to be. It makes him ache, makes him think of his long absence the passed few years. It’s almost symbolic of the emptiness Craig didn’t even realize was in his life without Kenny, He sits up. Unzipping the tent and stepping out into the morning. He again is hit with the loud bird noise and crickets.

Kenny is at his same spot he was the previous night. Craig slowly makes his way towards him. A snails pace. When he's crossed the distance between him and Kenny, his arms are folded. Lips pressed together, wound tight. He plops next to him.

"Craigo." Kenny sing songs. He's popping marshmallows into his mouth. And Craig watches it, looks at the stickiness of Kenny's slender fingers. How he stuffs the whole thing in his mouth.

He looks away. Keep your composure. He thinks. He stiffens, stifles.

"Kenny." He replies. Kenny lets out a hm of pleasure at the sugar. 

"Saw Red and Kevin chatting it up today." Kenny starts. He places the bag of white fluff down. Wiping his hands on the sheet beneath him. 

"Maybe Red will leave Bebe alone now." Kenny finishes. Craig feels instant relief. This is safe territory. He lets out a scoff, pushing his bangs away from his eyes. He hopes no one saw his ears. He meant to hide them in a baseball cap, but was so anxious that he didn't even think about it. Now it crosses his mind, however. It dawns on him that his hair has been wet most of this trip. He's a sweating pig.

"Red talks too much." Craig says. He knows this as a fact for most of his life. At family gatherings she's the life of the party. On family road trips, she's a chatter box. Whenever he and Kenny hung out with her, talk.

Kenny let's out a scoff at that, he leans back. His arms behind him, hands placed flat on the ground to keep him up. 

"It's weird." Kenny starts, he looks at Craig, and Craig tries to avoid staring him in the eyes. Looking at his hands in his lap. They're neatly folded, fingers interlacing. He can feel Kenny looking into him. Craig hopes he can't see anything.

Kenny eyes drift off as he turns away. 

"You never talk. I mean." Craig's hands are sweaty, clammy. It's not as hot out in the night time. The wind licks gently at Craig's skin. However, his hands are still perspiring. He lets them separate. Letting them drop to his sides. 

"I know she's not blood related. So i guess it's not too strange." Kenny finishes. Craig nods his head a little. Then reaches for a marshmallow. He squeezes it with his fingers, then drops it. Leaving it to birds or whatever creature finds it. It's a waste, and he knows it. 

"You stopped talking for awhile." Craig says and Kenny looks at him again, too quick. Craig is met with blue eyes on his hazel ones and he has to turn his head away, to the side. It's awkward, it's obvious. Kenny knows it.

"Why don't you ever look at me?" Kenny questions, sounding serious and sober. He sits up, turning towards Craig and giving him that look that Craig thinks he might resent. The look of knowing without words needing to be said. He reaches a hand out to brush Craig's hair behind his ear. His fingers gingerly stroke the cartilage. And Craig gulps down the lump that has been forming in his throat. It just won't go away. And he’s feeling teary and hot.

"Is it because I stopped talking to you?" Kenny question. His hand slips down from Craig's ear to laying flat on his cheek. He rubs his thumb in a circular motion. Going downward to cup his chin to gently get Craig to turn his face to him. Craig complies so easily, and he sort of hates that he does. His eyes fall on Kenny. 

It is that. It's exactly that. There is more, however. So much more that he doesn’t really understand or want to understand and Craig can't answer Kenny's question. He thinks he know the answer, knows it all too well. It's too much though. Craig reaches his hand up to cover Kenny's. His skin soft underneath Craig's touch. The thin, little hairs on Kenny's wrist brush against Craig's flesh. It tickles, and Craig closes his eyes. Dark lashes resting on tanned cheeks. 

"No." Craig lies. He can feel the tears well up in his eyes. He doesn't want to break down. He doesn't want Kenny to see him like this. He doesn't want Kenny to know him again. However the little droplets begin to roll down his cheeks, past his mouth to fall off his face. 

Kenny drops his hand. Craig can feel his eyes on him again. Watching him as he tries to contain his tears. Craig can feel his face heating up from embarrassment. He turns his head away, not wanting to be looked at.

Before Craig can really comprehend it, Kenny's reaches his hand out. His fingers press into his cheek, turning Craig's head back towards him. Craig opens his eyes, and he is meet with those baby blues, illuminated by moonlight. 

Craig doesn't get a word in before Kenny's mouth is pressed to his. Craig should be scared, should pull away. Run and hide, like he did after his wank fantasy. But he feels so much, he's dripping like an overflowing sink. Colors flowing out of him in gushes, waves. He moves quick, pressing himself against Kenny. It's like he waited for this moment. Like he was yearning it for years and didn't know it. His wet cheeks brush against Kenny's flesh. 

His fingers curl in blond waves. Kenny's hands cup Craig's face. Their mouths move, bleeding together like paint. Kenny's hand sliding from Craig's face to where his neck meets his shoulder. He rubs those gentle, soothing circles into the dip. Gingerly stroking the tanned expanse of skin. His lips move from his mouth to the corner of Craig's lips, sucking onto the flesh. Craig lets out a few soft curses as Kenny makes a trail to his Adam’s apple, nipping at him. 

Craig's breathing is shallow, broken. He lets Kenny suck bruises into his flesh, his green eyes open. Bleary from tears. His vision starts to clear, and he feels they aren’t alone. He brings his stare away from the tops of trees to lower and what he finds is Bebe. Bebe, standing a few feet away. She stands there with her lips parted, blond curls wild and unbrushed. 

Craig pushes at Kenny's chest. But he continues to try to suck on Craig's collarbones.

"Kenny...Bebe...she's..." Kenny doesn’t stop, like he doesn’t hear what Craig is saying. 

“Kenny, come on. Bebe! She’s…” this is what makes Kenny pause what he is doing. Pulling away slow and dazed. He stares down at Craig's exposed flesh, at the forming bruises. Then looks over his shoulder to where Bebe stands.

She looks close to tears for completely different reasons than Craig. Her pale cheeks flushed red, she's quivering. Craig watches as Kenny stands to go to her, her turn to walk into the woods. Walking, and then running.

Kenny stands. He gazes down at Craig, his lower lip between his teeth. Kenny looks like he is contemplating something. Like he's struggling to leave Craig. He shakes his head, back and forth with finality. Then retreats to follow after her.

Craig is left there in the blue glow of moonlight.

  
  
  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay this is being put up because it actually didn’t need a lot of revision! It’s actually a lot shorter than I thought it was. The next chapter is longer and ima start working on it soon.

  
The wind whips Kenny's golden waves backwards as he runs after Bebe. He can see her form slipping past tree after tree, he tries to keep his pace. Being careful not to trip and be impaled by a protruding branch. His feet pound into the dirt as he follows her.    
  
Eventually they hit the clearing, Kenny tripping on the sand, the shore of the lake. His knees dig into the soft soil, and he takes heaving breaths. His hand reaches up to clutch at his drumming heart. Kenny is out of shape, it's all the junk food he consumes. He may appear thin, tall. He ate what he could though, and what usually was in access wasn't healthy.    
  
Kenny's blue eyes dart around, searching for Bebe. He sees the familiarity of the location, the water lapping at the shore, the mountains in the distance. It's all cast in blue, early morning hues. The color of the sky before the sun begins to rise. As the moon descends and hides for the daylight to shine.   
  
His eyes land on Bebe, finds her at the dock. Exactly where Craig and he were hanging out earlier in the day. Kenny stands and dusts himself off. His bare feet dig into the sand. He is still breathing a little shallow. Choppy and short. Kenny takes slow, sloppy steps towards his best friend. Trying not to fall on his face from how hard it is to walk on this surface.   
  
He's grateful when he gets to the solid structure. Kenny walks the distance to Bebe, her gaze out on the lake. Her hair gently sways in the crisp of morning wind. And Kenny props himself next to her. He lets his feet dip into the water besides hers.   
  


It’s quiet and painfully so. Kenny can feel Bebe’s pain and ache like it’s his own. Like his heaving to catch his breath is her own. She may have caught up with her inhales and exhales yet it’s like her soul is tired and weary and gasping for air.

  
"I'm in love with you, you know." Bebe states matter of factually. She sniffles, wiping at her eyes. The mascara she fell asleep wearing smears down her cheeks, makes a stain on her hand. She doesn't care and she wraps her arms around herself, sinking into it and into her pity. Kenny watches as the tears slip from her eyes. Sliding down the length of her cheeks. He rests a hand on Bebe's shoulder.    
  
Kenny knows. He's known for a long time. Has known since he saw her face when he told her he and Stan hooked up. That was the first inkling at her emotions. That was the first time Kenny realized he was not fully over Craig. He was 16 at the time and lonely. Stan was too. Lonely and confused about his bisexuality, was a horrible mess. Kenny remembers him tasting bitter like alcohol. Remembers them both being lazy, under the influence. Sloppy. He wakes up with his nose buried in Stan's hair. Kenny remembers in hazy, drunken delusion thinking it was Craig.   
  
Kenny didn't love Stan. But Stan didn't love him, either. Not in that context. Had his own someone. Kenny remained quiet about what he knew. He thought it'd just all go away. That he'd get over Craig, that Bebe's crush would fade. That Stan would stop yearning for Kyle.   
  
Kenny's eyes fall on Bebe. Remembers the way Stan would look at her with the similar, love stricken expression he did with Wendy, with Kyle. He has mostly gotten over his twisting and turning and sick stomach. Doesn't throw up whenever he's goo goo eyes over someone.   
  
However, one thing remained was that stupid, parting of Stan's lips. Glazed over eyes, sweaty palms. Stan may not be completely over Kyle, Kenny watches him touch him. Stroke down those red curls. Let his finger tips run down the length of Kyle's pale skin. Yearning for Kyle to stop being so consumed with his school work, of leaving South Park behind. To notice. This was the first time Kyle hung out in a group since the middle of Junior year. He was off to Harvard. He worked hard. He never caught on to Stan's emotions. Was oblivious. Always blinded by ambition. And no one can even be mad at him for it.   
  
Bebe had a veil over her eyes too, but more in the sense that she was blinded by her emotions. While Kyle was too consumed with other matters to notice. Kenny can see her smile forming on her face when she and Stan talked. Can see the way her brown eyes sparkle in the sunlight when he touches her. Kenny can see her being happy with Stan. See her falling for him.  _ She already has _ . Everyone he knows wants to fall in love. Yet they don’t notice when love is right in front of them and when it’s real. Kenny can call it. Always has had a radar for it. However, he wasn't going to expose Stan like that. Nor Bebe, That was for them to figure out.   
  
In this moment, however, he needs Bebe to know she is loved by him. She is special. Even if it's not in the way she wants to be from him. He yearns for something real. Heart breaking, stomach fluttering. Something close. Something Bebe wanted. Something he could have with Craig. Something he  _ always _ has had with Craig. It’s like he woke up after that night with Stan. Fingers running through black locks that weren’t the boy he would steal glances at and ignore his ache for. He can't have that with Bebe. He's tried. He's kissed her before, felt her beneath him, wiggling and opening like a flower. He's tried to feel some sort of yearning or desire for her, only to go back to green eyes.    
  
His mind flashes to that night he left her house. Of bright lights, of screeching tires. To Craig sobbing over his broken, bloodied frame. It's the last memory he had of Craig before this trip. They were at the end of tenth grade, years after Kenny stopped talking to him. A chance meeting after Kenny had sex with Bebe for the first time. An accident. Kenny’s carelessness and Craig finding him as a consequence. It’s been so long that he died at this time. It was a coincidence. Yet sometimes, Kenny doesn't know if it was. Satan's son Damian swears there is no reason for anything. That Kenny would be stupid to think that. Maybe Damian is right.    
  
He never forgot it though. As Kenny took in one final dying breath, he looked into hazel. Craig's eyes flickered from green to neon blue. Like electricity, sparking to life. Kenny saw it tonight too, when those tears slipped down Craig’s cheeks there was a sort of electric glow to them. Kenny wonders if somewhere deep inside Craig remembers. If maybe the electricity that fell from his eyes that one day in Peru holds residual energy, pieces of Kenny’s death behind Craig’s eyes. He never approached Kenny when he came back though. He didn’t say anything tonight. Kenny has seen Craig use that power  _ once _ and it’s like it’s been repressed ever since. Maybe it was a one time thing. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Kenny held onto his suspicions though. A little flame of hope burns in his tummy. Licking at the walls. Kenny never found an opening before now, however. A way in. The timing was never right. How could he approach Craig after leaving? Kenny had his reasoning, he was hurt too. He was bitter.   
  
They hurt each other.   
  
"I know." Kenny replies. His fingers twist in Bebe's curls. She leans into the touch and the feeling of Kenny's full attention. Her crying has died down and she looks at Kenny fully.    
  
"I know you don't love me that way, though." She chokes out. Kenny puts an arm around her, pulling her close to his frame. She rests her head on his shoulder and closes her eyes. Bebe places her hand on top of Kenny's. Her manicured nails contrasting with his pale, freckled skin. He switches the position, putting his on top of hers.   
  
"I'm so stupid. So stupid. I don't know why i reacted like that. You finally...you finally had him." She sobs out. Kenny squeezes her dainty hand. Her skin is soft, pale. His thumb runs across her knuckles.   
  
"No. What you feel is valid, B. It matters." Kenny says, he lets his foot brush against her ankle. She lets out a sigh.   
  
"I'll be ok." She presses. Bebe pulls away, and she begins to pick herself up. Standing, looking out at the expanse of water before her. Bebe lets out a sigh, quivering. Trying to keep a composure Kenny knows she's kept for too long. She turns her head and smiles, a sad, lonely smile. The wind makes her hair fall in front of her face, she brushes some of it behind her ear.   
  
"Just. He's probably waiting." Bebe squeezes Kenny's hand and Kenny begins to stand, too. They remain there, next to each other. Bebe looks back out at the lake, and Kenny does too.   
  
"I love you." He replies. It's honest, he does. He's loved her since the night they first became friends. It was at a school dance, when Kenny was feeling abandoned, angry. He clung to the walls, where all the flowers that have not blossomed, have not a date or were too shy stuck to.   
  
Bebe plopped down next to him, tears streaming down her cheeks. She sobbed openly, freely. Kenny remained quiet. Didn't move to comfort her at first. She started wiping at her face with her hands, smearing the makeup onto her flesh. This is when Kenny pulled some of the toilet paper he stole out of his coat pocket. He handed it to her, looking out at the dance floor.   
  
His eyes were on a tanned skin, green eyed boy. Who's hands were placed on the shoulders of a blond, quivering mess. Tweek's nose was buried in the crook of Craig's neck as they glided across the dance floor. It was not a slow song, but they slow danced anyways.   
  
It killed Kenny inside. He dies, over and over and over. It fucking hurts. He wishes it could be permanent. Wishes he could fucking be put to rest. Watching Craig be with someone else was almost as painful. A different hurt, one that fueled his desire to be at peace even more. He doesn't get it. He was 11. Was it normal for an 11 year old to feel such complexity? There was no reason for him to be so jealous. He’s not  _ gay _ . 

Yet he was seething. Wanting to be the one holding Craig in his arms and guiding him across the dance floor.   
  


_ He missed his friend _ . 

  
"Aren't you going to ask what's wrong?" Bebe questioned. Kenny looked at her, in her aqua party dress. It was tight in the bosom, flowed out like a rose at the bottom.   
  
He didn't respond. Just looked back out at the dance floor.   
  
"Maybe I should ask you that." She added in. Bebe placed the toilet paper in her lap. Wiped at her face with the back of her hand instead. She smiled at him, but it was with half a heart. It fell.   
  
"Why don't you talk Kenny?" She pried. Kenny would look at her again, big blue eyes taking her in. Her straightened blond hair. Her flushed cheeks, bare face.    
  
"It must mean something."   
  
Maybe he needed a new friend.    
  
No one asks him directly if he's ok. He's left with a bitter silence, even if it's not intentional. Blending into shadows and walls and colors. He's all orange attire, it should stick out like a sore thumb. Yet, he bleeds together with the scenery like paint smudged in like an insignificant detail of art.   
  
Maybe Bebe was that friend. Maybe he should let her in. He was lonely, maybe Bebe was too. She was sitting with all the wall flowers, anyways.   
  
"Do you want to go to mcdonalds?" Kenny would question. She'd look taken aback at first. Unsure of what to say. A smile would form on her lips, though. And soon enough her teeth would be exposed. Clean and white, but crooked.   
  
"Sure"   
  
The rest was history. The rest led to this moment here. To their friendship, nights spent listening to Bebe talk about boys. Nights where Bebe would rant about environmental issues that she cared about. Where Kenny would ramble about his love for animals and their mistreatment and the overpopulation of strays. About how he would put cat food he’d buy with his saved city wok money on his back porch for the neighborhood cats and their families. To mornings where Bebe would sneak into his room after a rough date. Crying about how she hates how big her tits are. How it's all they care about. To Bebe's unreciprocated feelings. To coming to feel like only Kenny would love her right and proper, would be the only soul to just understand her. To the tears dried on her face. Her gentle quivers. Her broken heart. Red nose and cheeks.    
  
"I love you too" Bebe replies. She dips her head back, closes her eyes. She's the most beautiful woman Kenny ever met. If he could, he'd love her the way she wants. He always wished he could. It would be easier that way. He doesn't, though. Kenny squeezes her hand one last time before pulling himself back up and turning around. Folding his arms into himself and making his way back to the campsite.    
  
The path is dark, and he makes some wrong turns. Bumping into trees, stumbling over fallen branches. Eventually, though, he finds his truck parked before the clearing. The sun is rising, and it's oranges bleeding into pinks and purples. Saturated. Craig is in the same spot he was. Right where Kenny left him. The same, but somehow Kenny thinks things are different. Like maybe he had a chance and he ruined it. He ran for years and finally just stopped and admitted there was something there he couldn’t shake. As Kenny steps closer, he notices that Craig's eyes look glazed over, like he isn't entirely in the moment.    
  
"Craig." Kenny starts. He takes a seat next to him, and notices that his hands are wound tight together. Fingers interlaced, folded neatly. Reserved, in a way.   
  
"I'm sorry I kissed you." Kenny apologizes. It's the wrong thing to say and he knows it. It's so automatic, just comes out of his mouth. He knew how much Craig felt in that kiss. Could feel him unwinding, coming undone. But as Craig stares into nothing, blank and empty. Kenny can't help but regret it. Like maybe if he didn’t do it, if he didn’t run, Craig wouldn’t look so closed off with fright that only Kenny can read, and can feel in his own chest like it belongs to him. Like it is him. Like it’s always been his but he let go, and now it’s seeping in from a half that has been separated for years.  _ That hasn’t stopped running away from him.  _ _   
_   
Craig remains quiet as he stands. Upright and stiff. He crosses the distance from the fire pit, to their tent. It's an awkward and slow stretch, Craig pausing every few seconds. Kenny is tempted to help. Watching and screaming in his head to make this moment stop. His heart pounds in his ears, loud and resonating in his head. It freezes him and he watches as Craig shakily zips up the tent.   
  
Kenny turns his head back to the destroyed foliage. His eyes drift from the sticks and ashes to the low hanging sun. slowly creeping it's way up, up, up past horizon. Peaking it's smiling and bright countenance past the branches of trees.   
  
Before Kenny knows it, it's seven am. When is the last time he's slept? He can't remember. A few days since they arrived, probably.   
  
It's lonely at night, when the world slumbers under the dark canvas of sky and twinkling stars, the moon. It's easier to endure this loneliness than to be haunted by replays of death after death. Sometimes drowning, slipping under to black inky waters. Sometimes of impalement. Sometimes of being run over, crushed under the weight of tires and metal. Replay, replay, replay.   
  
Kenny would take the quiet company of the moon man and his many bright lovers, burnt out. Dead. Any day.    
  
The stars and moon do not harm or kill. They watch over and gently illuminate you in their light. Bathe you in their all knowing, seeing eyes. They watch you, even when you can't see them.   
  
Kenny wonders when he finally dies for real, if he ever does, if he'll have a place among them. He's always ended up in hell, sometimes heaven. Never among the constellations.   
  
His hands twist together. Nervous and yearning, eager to touch Craig. To unzip their tent and gingerly pull back the covers. Expose Craig in the dim light of morning. Rest a hand on his cheek and console him. To feel his soft flesh beneath Kenny's fingertips.   
  
He's so stupid. Kenny is frozen and he knows he should do what his body and heart is telling him. Yet his mind sits there in the yellow and pink of daylight, feeling scared. Defeated.    
  
Again he is brought back to stars and just wonders if they know what goes on in Craig's mind. If they can understand Kenny's anxiety. If they know what happens next.   
  
Kenny sits there and reasons with them. To give him a push, a sign of what he should do next. Instead time lulls on, the sun's rays become brighter and make his eyes burn.   
  
He wipes away the tears that formed from the light. Lets out a sigh. Stupid. Kenny thinks. As if the stars were some sort of god. He should know whats real and not.   
  
  
It's Red that stumbles out her tent first. She sits next to Kenny and looks at her, trying to smile as best as he can. It's closed lip and not too convincing. Eyes watery from the sunlight. She smiles back, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. Eyeliner sleep smudged. She lays on the blanket next to Kenny, rests her head on his lap. Fingernails digging into his exposed thighs.    
  
She lets out a little sigh, content and peaceful.   
  
Kenny strokes down her maroon locks, messy. Her bangs stick to her forehead from perspiration collecting there.   
  
"Was I stupid?" She questions. Red's voice is lazy and sleep coated. Kenny looks down at her and knows what she is referring to. He's seen her and Kevin hitting it off like there was not a big chunk of time and silence between them. Laughter falling from their lips and into the environment around them. Red's subtle flirting, Kevin trying to play coy. Their thighs brushing against each other when they were all roasting marshmallows. Kevin's hand laying to rest on Red's knee.   
  
Kenny also remembers Red being hostile, cold towards the idea of being close to Kevin the first night here. He remembers her ignoring Kevin's oh so curious eyes.    
  
Kenny doesn't know when the two met in the middle, but they did.   
  
"Kind of." Kenny responds. He gingerly pushes her soaked bangs to the sides. They blend in with the longer strands of crimson, her hair greasy and unwashed.    
  
She sighs, squeezes her blue eyes shut. Her body is lazy and she is all curled into herself. After a few minutes of quiet, Red stretches out, letting her legs and arms unfold. Trying to work out the sleep in her body. It's like a cat, waking up from it's nap.   
  
When she is satisfied Red begins to sit up. Her mascara coated eyelashes rest on her cheeks, and she reaches into the pocket of her purple skirt. Kenny watches as Red rummages the contents of the confine. Looking for something. When she finds it, she presents it. Holding out a bowl, some weed. When Kenny sees it he pulls out his own lighter. Nestled in the same place it always is, his sock. Carefully positioned so he would not step on it.   
  
  
  
"I was scared. You know?" She starts as she begins to set up the bowl, and when she's done Kenny lights it for her. Red parts her lips, closing around it to take a hit, lets out a content hum.   
  
The smoke curls out of her mouth, a cloud of gray contrasting with morning hues.   
  
"I fucked him over. Don't tell me otherwise. But he let me. Just let me leave. I broke up with him and he didn't fight it." She's referring to when all the girls broke it off with their boyfriends. Kenny takes the bowl from her hands, look at the intricacy and handwork of the glass pipe.    
  
He lights, and then inhales. Listening to Red. Kenny can't help but feel an eerie relation to what Red is saying. While the scenery and reasoning is different, the underline feeling and problems lies with him and Craig.    
  
"I was angry, Kenny. So fucking angry. Bitter." Kenny places the glass between them. His gaze on Red does not falter. She looks out at the expanse of forest before her. Kenny wonders if avoiding eye contact is a Tucker thing. Or if he is just too hard to look at.   
  
"That's...rough." Kenny responds. He's unsure of what to say. Red and him were never too close, but never too far either. There was always some way they were connected. At first it was from their mutuality of knowing Craig, their shared classes, now the paralleling of their situation.   
  
  
As if she can read his mind, Red turns her head to stare at him. It's similar to Craig, that look that makes Kenny feel like she is seeing through him. Her blue eyes roam his countenance, and she smiles. She must of found something she likes.   
  
"But enough about me," Red starts. She rests the bowl that Kenny hands back to her between them. Kenny can feel a nice veil of numbness coat his whole being. The drug working it's magic, he lays on his back. Watches the branches sway gently above him.    
  
"How are you and Craig?" Red finishes. Kenny feels his face heat, the red travels from his face and down his neck. He turns his head to look up at her through blond lashes. She doesn't look accusatory or angry, like she knows what just took place. Just curious.

Most people kind of now what he feels. He’s talked about Craig at a party with Wendy before. Drunk and tearful while Bebe was with her mother helping her with her second marriage. Wendy was so kind, so understanding. Even if Lola and Powder were nearby, probably eaves dropping—it’s like his secret was kept by a group of girls that he came to be fond of. Lola and Powder aren’t really his friends, yet he always looked out for them. Even if it’s just by holding open the door for them or giving them extra serving when they’d come into City Wok. Kenny stopped working there recently, yet still.   
  


It was probably obvious to most people that Kenny has a thing for Craig.

It wasn’t talked about often. Not to his face.

  
Kenny lets out a sigh, head and eyes drifting back upwards toward the sky. He watches the feathery clouds behind leaves moving onwards.   
  
"I think I messed up." Kenny starts. He watches as two fat birds peck at each other. Kissing, their beaks gently colliding together.   
  
“Oh?” She questions. Kenny lets out a laugh. He can’t fathom why it’s laughter that that comes out. It does, though. 

“You’re not the stupid one, I am. I was angry too Red.” Kenny spits out. He can feel tears forming in the corners of his eyes. Gathering and rolling down the side of his face. The branches above him sway. He watches the motion.

“He’s scared.” Red interrupts Kenny’s pitying. He turns her head to him, sticks and leaves tangled into his hair. She places her bowl down and looks to him, finally. Kenny knows she means it. Red wouldn’t turn to him otherwise. 

Kenny is about to open his mouth, respond. Before he can, he can hear the crunching of foliage beneath feet. His mouth closes and Kenny sits up to Clyde’s rising. Soon, most everyone leaves their tent. Life is restored with daylight. 

Craig isn’t reborn with the ascendancy of the sun, however. Kenny bites at his lip. Tries to return to bright, yellow-orange normalcy. Although realistically, everything is blue.

  
  



End file.
